Because what the internet needs is more wittering about rubbish parenting

Thursday, 8 September 2011

Getting Older, Not Wiser...

I write to you now, as I sit in the dying hours of my twenties (and also on the sofa, feeding, so please excuse any cack-handed typing). Yup, in two hours and 18 minutes, it will be my 30th birthday. Feels like a good, grown-up, responsible adult type age. So why, despite the fact that I am the owner of two small people, two mortgages, and a Brabantia breadbin, do I feel like nothing of the sort?

So, I suppose I should thank a very special friend of mine for helping to keep me feeling young. There's something about rubbing your mate's back as she's sick down a lamppost that makes you relive your underage drinking years! (Love you S!) Yes, my birthday night out may not have gone entirely according to plan (once again, no mojito!), but it was extremely fun. Until the time came to do the expressing. I had not factored in how boring, annoying, and downright difficult it would be to operate a breast pump under the influence of a bottle of prosecco. It made me feel all wrong, and like I shouldn't have left my baby. Not helped by an episode from earlier in the evening where a woman in the toilets told me that she wasn't going ANYWHERE without her son for AT LEAST 8 months. And there's me, shipping my baby off to her grandma. Terrible behaviour.

The New'un definitely missed me though. She did NOT want her milk out of a poxy bottle thank you very much Grandma (even though she has one every week when I'm at yoga, and is fine), so once she had the boobs back, she was going to feed, and feed, and feed some more, glaring accusingly at me the whole time. The Toddler didn't even notice I'd been gone.

Anyway, birthday night out was last week, because tomorrow we are off on a little family holiday. And when I say "family", I mean "every single person that I am related to apart from my dad's cousin Betty who lives in Swansea". We're taking over Center Parcs. I have a spa session booked. The Toddler is sharing a room with my 8-year-old cousin. Given that she stayed awake for two whole hours this evening just chatting on to herself, I don't envisage a whole lot of sleep happening. Ah well, best thing about family time is having plenty of reinforcements to help deal with overtired children.

See you when I'm old.

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